


Matchmaker

by detafo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sort Of, Younger sister plays matchmaker, i dunno, please be kind, this is my first foray into mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 10:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detafo/pseuds/detafo
Summary: Genevieve (Vivi) was born after Eurus' incarceration. Mycroft dotes on her. She loves her brothers. She plays subtle matchmaker.





	Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> Be kind. This is my first foray into Mystrade, let alone fluff. And my first fan fiction in about seven years. 
> 
> Constructive criticism appreciated, kudos loved, adored and pinned to my wall.
> 
> This has potential to be expanded on in a series of ficlets... I'd love some help, if anyone's willing. Message me.

** Matchmaker **

“Mummy, why does Vivi get to stay home?” Sherlock pouted, big multihued eyes staring at his mother from underneath a mop of dark, cascading and unruly curls.

Millicent Holmes smiled fondly at her youngest son, all of twelve years old and already as tall as her. He would be like his brother and father – tall and slim.

“Sherlock, we've been over this. She's far too young for such a sombre affair. Besides, she didn't even know Aunt Jessica.”

“Don't know why we even called her Aunt. She wasn't related to us in any way.” Sherlock sniffed rudely.

“The car's ready.” Mycroft announced, effectively stopping another argument in its tracks.

Milly pressed her lips together and tutted, reaching out to smooth Sherlock curls, but the teenager ducked under her arm and sped out the door. Mycroft watched him go.

“We can't leave until the babysitter gets here!” He called out.

As usual, Sherlock ignored him. The older Holmes brother cleared his throat and patted the back of his neck with a handkerchief.

Milly frowned. “Darling, are you all right?”

“Fine, Mummy. Just a bit of a queasy stomach. I don't think dinner at school last night wholly agreed with me.” His cheeks were paler than usual, and his freckles stood out rather starkly.

Milly tutted. “The way you pick at your food, it's probably your stomach trying to eat itself.” She said, shaking her head as the doorbell rang. “That'll be the babysitter. Would you answer the door, dear?”

She bustled to the lounge, where the youngest Holmes, Genevieve, sat, reading a large tome of Brothers Grimm faerie tales. “Vivi, darling, time to put the book away. You know I don't like you reading the darker stories by yourself.”

“Sorry, Mummy, but the stories are so interesting!” The little girl smiled.

Meanwhile, Mycroft headed to the front door and opened it, stopping short at the sight of the young, dark haired man.

The stranger smiled openly. “Holmes residence?” he asked. “I'm Greg Lestrade.”

Mycroft scraped his thoughts together with some difficulty. “Hmm? Ah... you're the babysitter?”

“Uh, yeah... sorry. My cousin usually babysits for you? Rebecca. She came down with a bad case of nettle rash during her early morning walk. She would have called to cancel, but I was visiting and she was in a bind...” He smiled apologetically. “She said your family had a funeral to go to and she hated to leave you in the lurch.”

“Mycroft? Is that Rebecca?” Milly's voice cut through the silence of the house.

“Err, no. Rebecca's cousin, Greg. Rebecca couldn't make it.” Mycroft couldn't quite tear his eyes away from this handsome creature. “Um, please... come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed the fellow in. Milly came through the door to the lounge and gazed at Greg with a little trepidation.

“Greg?” Her features smoothed after a moment when she remembered him. “Oh! Yes, Rebecca’s talked about the times you and your sisters visited when you were children. I remember you, if only a little… It has been many years.”

“Oh, yeah. We used to play in your orchard a lot.” Greg smiled openly. “Look, I’m sorry to barge in. Bec’s been laid up with sickness and I offered to cover her babysitting job. No need to put you out.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Greg.” Milly smiled, looking at Mycroft. “Darling, I think you can go out to the car, now. I’ll get Vivi settled with Greg and we’ll be heading off shortly.” Mycroft seemed to shake himself out of a slight stupor and nodded, turning on his heel, not noticing Greg’s eyes lingering on his backside for a moment longer than necessary. “Now, Greg… we’ll only be gone until about five, seven at the latest. Emergency numbers are by the phone in the kitchen, I’ve made some chicken and salad sandwiches to have for your lunch, Vivi can show you where everything else is. If we’re late, I’ll make sure to call.” Milly smiled. “Thank you for being so kind.”

“Not at all, Mrs Holmes- “

“Oh, please… I’m Milly, you shall call me as such.” She clucked. “Vivi! Come and meet Greg.” Silence. “Genevieve Odette Demeter Holmes!”

There was a scurry of little feet and a small girl with a halo of fiery red curls appeared, dark blue eyes regarding Greg curiously. She waved a hand but was otherwise silent, regarding him sombrely.

Milly smiled. “Now, you be good for Greg and we’ll see you later.” She kissed the girl’s head and the girl giggled softly. Greg couldn’t help but think that the giggle sounded rather mischievous. He watched as Milly turned and grabbed her handbag and headed out toward the back door, where Siger Holmes waited patiently in the care with Sherlock sitting sulkily in the back seat. Mycroft was in his own car, as he preferred driving on his own without Sherlock’s constant barrage of insults and so-called deductions. The cars pulled out of the long drive and the house became silent.

Greg looked at Genevieve and she looked back at him. After a beat or two of regarding him thoughtfully, she cocked her head to one side. “You want to be a policeman.” She said, somewhat abruptly. “Are you going to take the exams soon?”

“How did…?” Greg shook his head and smiled. “I’ll be waiting another year yet. I need to earn a bit more dosh to save.” He followed the little girl into the lounge where he noticed books; not the usual picture books that children read, but novels, ranging from Grimm’s Faerie Tales, to Stephen King, to Stephen Hawking. His brow creased at the open copy of _Anne of Green Gables_ on the coffee table. Vivi noticed his expression.

“It’s my favourite. I read it a lot.” She said with an air of indifference.

“You’re five.” Greg said, lamely. “That’s at least-“

“My age has nothing to do with it. I’ve been able to read since I was two.” Vivi smiled. “Like Matilda.”

Greg knew that this day was going to be very interesting indeed.

~+~

The day had flown quickly, Greg being continually surprised at how astute the little girl was. So far, she’d been correct in that he wanted to become a copper, that his parents owned a café and bookshop and that he helped out as often as he could. His girlfriend had left him a month ago and he was on a short holiday in the country to nurse his wounded pride. He was twenty-three, single, still lived in his parents’ house (though he planned to move out once he got accepted to the Academy), fairly active with football on the weekends and enjoyed a night out once a week with his mates down the pub for a few drinks, a game of pool and a feed of fish and chips.

They’d been in the middle of discussing Anne of Green Gables in depth over lunch, Greg admitting that the series was a favourite of his and listing the pros and cons of each of the major characters (both agreed that Mrs Rachel Lynde, though a lovely woman, could be quite the nosy old bat) when the sound of a car door slamming startled them from their conversation. Greg frowned and went to the back door, seeing the dark auburn haired young man from this morning, leaning against the door of his car, vomiting in the rose bushes. Vivi peeked out from behind Greg’s legs.

“Mycroft!” She called, as her older brother wiped his mouth on a handkerchief and leaned back. She ducked past Greg and raced to his side, her small arms wrapping around his hips. “Are you okay?”

Greg stepped out of the door and went to the young man’s side. He was as pale as a ghost and had a sheen of sweat glancing his brow. It was still early afternoon, and not at all hot. He frowned. “Come on, mate. You look like you need a glass of water, some dry toast and a good long nap.”

Mycroft shook his head. “I have to get back to school…” He said, weakly, his nose wrinkling at the smell of his breath.

“Mycroft.” Vivi admonished, helping as best she could to get the lanky man into the house and to lie on the couch. “Mummy would kill you if you went back to school sick.” Greg had to hide a smirk, and Mycroft managed a weak tug of the corner of his mouth.

“Nurse Vivi is right, you know.” Greg said. “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Mycroft nodded. “She’s right a lot of the time. Family trait, I’m afraid.”

Vivi smiled and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Carefully climbing off the footstool that aided her, she took the beverage into her brother. “Water. Drink it, Ed.”

“…Ed?” Greg raised his eyebrows, curiously. “I thought your name was Mycroft?”

“It is.” Mycroft said, at the same time Vivi said, “Edward is his real name.”

Greg merely glanced between the two Holmes siblings and shook his head. “So, which is the real first name?”

Mycroft sighed. “My full name is Edward Mycroft Charles Holmes… I much prefer Mycroft.” He eyed the five-year-old. “Genevieve is the only one who can get away with calling me ‘Ed’. I can’t stand the name, otherwise.”

“Because I’m your favourite sibling.” Vivi said with a smirk on her face. “You can admit it, you know, Mycroft.” She grinned cheekily. “Now drink your water. I’m going to make toast.”

Greg looked thoroughly bemused at the interaction between sister and brother. He’d never had such a close rapport with either of his sisters, and found it difficult to believe, especially given the age difference between the two.

“Greg, can you make sure he finishes the water, and tuck that blanket around him.” The five-year-old oozed importance over playing nurse. “He’s a stubborn crow.”

“Since when did you decide I’m a crow?” Mycroft said weakly, though a slight smile played about his face.

“Since you’re stubborn and a loner and like shiny things.” Vivi said, without so much as a pause for thought. She wandered back to the kitchen and began to prepare some toast.

As she worked, she heard the two older boys talking quietly between themselves. She smiled. Even though she was only five years old, she’d deduced that Greg liked boys as well as girls, and thought him an excellent match for her big brother, whom she’d always noticed seemed so lonely before he came home. She busied herself in the kitchen, leaving the boys to chat.

~+~

“So… what was all that about, then?” Greg asked, tucking the blanket around Mycroft’s lithe frame. At the younger man’s bemused expression, he elaborated. “Vivi… she bosses you around like she owns the place… seems to know exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.”

“Genevieve is my life saver for whenever I come home.” Mycroft said, softly. “She was born when I was going through a very rough patch at fourteen years of age. Though I’ve hardly gotten along with my parents, I doted on her from the moment of her birth… I’ve missed her terribly since I’ve gone away to school… she seems to ground me, if that’s not such a silly thing to say.”

“On the contrary,” Greg mused. “I have one older sister, Marilyn, and a younger sister, Katrina. Kat is about seven years younger than me and about to go through her last year of high school. When she was born, it made me feel important as a big brother.” He chuckled. “Cemented the idea that I wanted to be a copper; something that Vivi has already weaselled out of me.”

Mycroft smirked tiredly. “Another family trait. If I wasn’t so sure about my employment choices after school, I’d say we would all become detectives, or perhaps some sort of confounding illusionists.” He chuckled softly. Though he was tired from the apparent food poisoning he’d contracted, he found it easy to talk to the older lad… perhaps it was his mind addled with dehydration, or malnutrition… or perhaps the potential police officer had managed to interest him on another level.

As they talked easily about younger siblings and future goals and anything else that really came to mind, Vivi stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a plate of rapidly cooling dry toast for her brother. A smile played about her lips, and though she didn’t not quite understand what older people talked about, she was glad to see her big brother’s conscious grip of himself loosen and seem to let the babysitter in.

Quietly, she picked up her discarded copy of _Anne of Green Gables_ , deciding that it was prudent to leave the older boys to talk amongst themselves.


End file.
